I close this abstract of foreign testimony with two English authorities often quoted. Sir Edward Belcher, while on the coast in 1837, records that “fish, halibut, and salmon of two kinds, were abundant and moderate, of which the crews purchased and cured great quantities.”[207] Sir George Simpson, who was at Sitka in 1841, says: “Halibut, cod, herrings, flounders, and many other sorts of fish, are always to be had for the taking, in unlimited quantities.… Salmon have been known literally to embarrass the movements of a canoe. About 100,000 of the last-mentioned fish, equivalent to 1,500 barrels, are annually salted for the use of the establishment.”[208] Nothing could be stronger as statement, and, when we consider the character of its author, nothing stronger as authority.
Cumulative upon all this accumulation of testimony is that of recent visitors. Nobody visits here without testifying. The fish are so demonstrative in abundance that all remark it. Officers of the United States navy report the same fish substantially which Cook reported, as far north as the Frozen Ocean. Scientific explorers, prompted by the Smithsonian Institution, report cod in Behring Strait, on the limits of the Arctic Circle. One of these reports, that, while anchored near Oonimak, in 1865, the ship, with a couple of lines, caught “a great many fine cod, most of them between two and three feet in length.” He supposes that there is no place on the coast where they are not numerous. A citizen of Massachusetts, who has recently returned from prolonged residence on this coast, writes me from Boston, under date of March 8, 1867, that “the whale and cod fisheries of the North Pacific are destined to form a very important element in the wealth of California and Washington Territory, and that already numbers of fishermen are engaged there, and more are intending to leave.” From all this testimony there can be but one conclusion, with regard at least to certain kinds of fish.
Salmon exists in unequalled numbers, so that this fish, so aristocratic elsewhere, becomes common. Not merely the prize of epicures, it is the food of all. Not merely the pastime of gentle natures, like Izaak Walton or Sir Humphry Davy, who employ in its pursuit an elegant leisure, its capture is the daily reward of the humblest. On Vancouver’s Island it is the constant ration given out by the Hudson’s Bay Company to the men in service. At Sitka ships are gratuitously supplied with it by the natives. By the side of the incalculable multitudes swarming out of the Arctic waters, haunting this extended coast, and peopling its rivers, so that at a single haul Portlock took not less than two thousand, how small an allowance are the two hundred thousand which the salmon fisheries of England annually supply!
Herring seem not less multitudinous than the salmon. Their name, derived from the German Heer, signifying an army, is amply verified, as on the coast of Norway they move in such hosts that a boat at times makes its way with difficulty through the compact mass. I do not speak at a venture, for I have received this incident from a scientific gentleman who witnessed it on the coast. This fish, less aristocratic than the salmon, is a universal food, but here it would seem enough for all.
The halibut, so often mentioned for size and abundance, is less generally known than the others. It is common in the fisheries of Norway, Iceland, and Greenland. In our country its reputation is local. Even at the seaport of Norfolk, in Virginia, it does not appear to have been known before 1843, when its arrival was announced as that of a distinguished stranger: “Our market yesterday morning was enriched with a delicacy from the Northern waters, the halibut, a strange fish in these parts, known only to epicures and naturalists.” The larger fish are sometimes coarse and far from delicate, but they furnish a substantial meal, while the smaller halibut is much liked.
The cod is perhaps the most generally diffused and abundant of all, for it swims in all the waters of the coast, from the Frozen Ocean to the southern limit, sometimes in immense numbers. It is a popular fish, and, when cured or salted, is an excellent food in all parts of the world. Palatable, digestible, and nutritious, the cod, as compared with other fish, is as beef compared with other meats; so that its incalculable multitudes seem to be according to a wise economy of Nature. A female cod is estimated to contain from three to nine million eggs.[209] Talk of multiplication a hundred fold,—here it is to infinity. Imagine these millions of eggs grown into fish, and then the process of reproduction repeated, and you have numbers which, like astronomical distances, are beyond human conception. But here the ravenous powers of other fish are more destructive than any efforts of the fisherman.
Behind all these is the whale, whose corporal dimensions fitly represent the space he occupies in the fisheries of the world, hardly diminished by petroleum or gas. On this extended coast and in all these seas he is at home. Here is his retreat and play-ground. This is especially the case with the right-whale, or, according to whalers, “the right whale to catch,” with bountiful supply of oil and bone, who is everywhere throughout this region, appearing at all points and swarming its waters. D’Wolf says, “We were frequently surrounded by them.”[210] Meares says, “Abundant as the whales may be in the vicinity of Nootka, they bear no comparison to the numbers seen on the northern part of the coast.”[211] At times they are very large. Kotzebue reports them at Oonalaska of fabulous proportions, called by the natives Aliamak, and so long “that the people engaged at the opposite ends of the fish must halloo very loud to be able to understand each other.”[212] Another whale, known as the bow-head, is so much about Kadiak that it is sometimes called the Kadiak whale. The valuable sperm-whale, whose head and hunch are so productive in spermaceti, belongs to a milder sea, but he sometimes strays to the Aleutians. The narwhal, with his long tusk of ivory, out of which was made the famous throne of the early Danish kings, belongs to the Frozen Ocean; but he, too, strays into the straits below. As no sea is now mare clausum, all these may be pursued by a ship under any flag, except directly on the coast and within its territorial limit. And yet the possession of this coast as a commercial base must necessarily give to its people peculiar advantages in the pursuit. What is done now under difficulties will be done then with facilities, such at least as neighborhood supplied to the natives even with their small craft.
In our country the whale fishery has been a great and prosperous commerce, counted by millions. It has yielded considerable gains, and sometimes large fortunes. The town of New Bedford, one of the most beautiful in the world, has been enriched by this fishery. And yet you cannot fail to remark the impediments which the business has been compelled to overcome. The ship was fitted on the Atlantic coast for a voyage of two or three years, and all the crew entered into partnership with regard to the oil. Traversing two oceans, separated by a stormy cape, it reaches at last its distant destination in these northern seas, and commences its tardy work, interrupted by occasional rest and opportunity to refit at the Sandwich Islands. This now will be changed, as the ship sallies forth from friendly harbors near the game which is its mighty chase.
From the whale fishery I turn to another branch of inquiry. Undoubtedly there are infinite numbers of fish on the coast; but to determine whether they can constitute a permanent and profitable fishery, there are at least three different considerations which must not be disregarded: (1.) The existence of banks or soundings; (2.) Proper climatic conditions for catching and curing fish; (3.) A market.