The first mate’s boat was the one aft on the port side. This was the one to which I was assigned. It was called the “larboard” boat. And now it is to be noted that no whaleboat ever had a name. It even did not have painted on it the name of the ship to which it belonged.
On the fourth day the weather was mild and the sea calm. In the morning the order came to lower the boats. The lookouts were in the hoops at the mastheads, but there were no whales in sight. The truth is, the greenies needed practice and training to prepare them for the encounter with whales. Lakeum said to me:
“Did you ever handle an oar?”
“Oh, yes,” I said. “I can not only handle an oar but I can do two things which my father told me most merchantmen can’t do. I can swim and sail a boat.”
“You may have to do both before this voyage is over,” was the reply in rather a stern tone.
Each boat carried six men. If, when in pursuit of whales, the wind were favorable, the sail was set; if light, oars were used together with the sail; if not favorable, the oars alone were used.
And now we were not to seek whales, but have our first practice in the imaginary pursuit. I had the stroke oar, which was nearly fourteen feet long. If this were regarded as heavy and clumsy, what would one say of the steering oar held by Lakeum, which was twenty feet long? When the boat was lowered, we scrambled into her and took our places. Another man and I were the only greenies in the mate’s boat, and it turned out that he had never handled an oar before; as for myself, I was only used to light oars of moderate length. The sea looked very calm from the ship’s deck, but when we had pushed off, we found that our great whaleboat was tossed about considerably, and this made rowing more difficult. I was anxious to do my best and I think Lakeum was aware of it, but he gave suggestions and orders in a tone which made me realize that he was my master.
The mate always helps the stroke oarsman. As Lakeum steered with his left hand, he pushed with his right hand on the handle of my oar. The other greenie blundered more than I did and in such a way as to interfere with the others. The men made him the object of their ridicule, but Lakeum told them to be quiet. Take it all in all, some progress was made that morning, and we returned to the vessel with an appetite for dinner.
This suggests the food that was served to us. There were three messes,—cabin, steerage and forecastle. Meals were served at seven-thirty A.M., at noon, and at five P.M. As to the forecastle, the food was dumped in bulk into large pans and carried from the galley to the forecastle, where the men ate it from small pans. For drink we had tea and coffee sweetened with a kind of molasses. We had salt junk and also hard bread which was improved by soaking it to flabbiness, frying it in pork fat and deluging it in black molasses. Lobscouse, a favorite dish, was a mixture of hard-tack, meat and potatoes. Duff was made of flour, lard and dried apples. It was boiled in a bag and served with molasses.
We ate our food in the forecastle while sitting on benches in front of our bunks. Sometimes the meat was divided into as many parts as there were men. Then, as the carver asked, “Who’s this for?” a man who had turned his back called another man’s name and the portion was given to him. This was repeated until all the men were served. Now let me say that during the voyage I never saw among the men a single act of selfishness or greediness. Often those who are uneducated and have had no social advantages are, in their relations with others, the most considerate and gentlemanly.