I painted the figurehead, as the Aurora was looking a little dissipated with her out-stretched arm unhooked. This was only in commission when in port; consequently, it looked younger than her seagoing arm, which was a fixture across her breast and which had stood the brunt of many gales.
July 26th. Saturday. All hands were "making off" the fish. They were at it early and had finished by noon, and then there was a general clean up for Sunday, but strict watch was kept. There were only white whales and some narwhals around. The tusks we took from those we killed and those we had bartered for, always lay on the after grating, which covered the well down which the auxiliary propeller went; there was never enough motion to roll them off.
July 27th. The usual Sunday gale was blowing and we were dodging about under canvas all day. I was out on a yard during a snow squall and found it very exciting. This was my first attempt at taking in sails when there was much wind. We spoke the Narwhal; she had seven whales and reported the Arctic as having eight and all the rest well fished. Towards evening we sailed to our favorite fishing ground on the south side.
July 28th. Monday. All hands were away after a whale at six A. M. We had a long pull, and lost her for a time amongst the loose ice. Rounding tins, however, we reached her again and the mate got fast, McLean putting in a second. We passed both boats and were in at the kill. When we had backed off once for a flurry, I looked around and saw Watson lancing. I thought the flukes would have smashed his boat, he took such awful chances. This whale rolled about a great deal, and bristled with lances which she had torn from the men's hands by rolling. She was also dreadfully tangled up with lines which had caught on the lances. There is sometimes danger from being caught under these lines and cut in two. When a dead whale is lying on its back, the abdomen lies very low in the water, and, when freshly killed, sinks with a man when he walks along it. As we were a long way from the ship, she came after us and we soon had the whale alongside. The capstan was used for taking on board the big blanket pieces. At the order, "Heave away capstan," a shanty was struck up by the men marching around.
They sang so loud that we could often hear their weird songs coming over the water from other ships similarly engaged. Our friends, the fulmar petrels, were always with us upon occasions of this kind, and all that were in the Sound, I think, spent the day with us.
The outer skin of the whale is about as thick as stiff paper, and black. It peels off readily, and the men cut book markers out of it. Under this comes a layer, nearly an inch thick, of rather gelatinous stuff, which the Eskimos eat raw, then the blubber between this and the superficial fascia, by which the body heat is preserved. It took us practically all the rest of the day to flense.
July 29th. Tuesday. We had a visit from two natives; they were prosperous looking people with a good sled and dogs. I admired the protection from the sun which they wore. It was a piece of wood with a slit cut in it. This was very efficacious, but unbecoming. We learned from these people that many whales had been seen by them this year. They had some bear skins with them for trade, and some walrus ivory. This was much inferior to the narwhal ivory, which was very fine and was worth, at this time, I think, one pound ten per pound, that of the walrus being only worth half a crown. I had a long walk with a gun but did not see anything.